The old covered bridge sits their whispering it's storied past
I stop at the entrance
And gaze across it's vast expanse
The old wood smell of decay
But today's the day...Is it safe to cross?
Many of the floor boards are missing
With each step It could be a loss
I take that first step
The hardest one you see
The floor boards moan
Safe passage no guarantee
Each step I take to cross this bridge
Is a wearisome affair
As I near the other side
I say a short prayer
Thankful to cross to the other side
Things look different from over here
I think I'll stay awhile
And leave that bridge to someone Else's fears
The grass is not always greener on the other side, sometimes it just seems that way, has we long for a better life everyday...
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
JoAnn, it takes a lot of confidence to cross over that bridge and from the sound of that is what your gaining every step of the way. Top marks. Thanks for sharing it my friend. David